me.
“The point of this conversation isn’t my mother,” I stop myself before I digress and this conversation heads to a darker direction than what it’s meant to be. “To answer your question, yes, I want to fix what I fucked up with you. At least the kids. The marriage and the fairy tale—we know, it’s impossible. I’m too broken to do it.”
She shakes her head and says, “No, you just don’t know how to relate with others. Now that you’re away from the toxic influence, it might work for you. You’ll end up falling for one of the townies.”
“You think there’s hope for me?”
“Sure. You’re not that bad at all. If you need me to write a recommendation, I’ll do it,” she jokes. “Come on, let’s go back home.”
We walk the rest of the way in silence. I wish I knew what she’s thinking about or if she’d even consider giving me a chance. She just said it. There’s hope for me.
Maybe there’s hope for both of us.
The first thing I do Monday morning is feed the kids. After having breakfast, I head to The Lodge to see my new office. I hate it. Hayes and Henry asked Easton to divide one of the conference rooms into two and make them offices. It’s small, ugly, and lacks natural light. My office used to face the Continental Divide. I had a gorgeous view, an assistant, and more exciting people to deal with than my brothers.
If the restaurants were open, I’d say that there’s a bar I can visit if things become too strenuous. Henry closed all of them because he needs to bring them up to code. If anyone asks why I choked him, it’s his fault. Self-defense for the lack of alcohol to reduce the stress he induces.
For the first couple of hours, I create a file for every request my brothers emailed me. They are pushing for more than thirty days out of this town after six months. Henry wants access to Dad’s money without having to explain to Mr. Parrish every little change he has to do to The Lodge, the factory, or any other business he owned. Hayes wants to live in his brand-new house when it’s finished. I roll my eyes at one of Beacon’s requests, for Henry to be his butler once a month.
And you know what, I add it because I would pay to see that happen. I add one asking for Mills to serve me breakfast in bed every Saturday.
It’s not even nine when Beacon enters my office and sits on the chair across from my desk.
I cock an eyebrow and ask, “Yes?”
“My band starts touring in just a few months,” he begins. “Though I’d love to be the first man to fly across the country in less than two hours, you and I know it’s impossible.”
“Cancel,” I answer. “I’m not sure how it has to be done because I’m not part of the showbiz, but you have to move your dates to two years from now.”
His smile falls, then his expression turns into anger. He cracks his knuckles. “I knew it. You’re not going to help me.”
I set the pile of documents I’ve been working on this morning closer to him. His ridiculous request is on top. I say, “Look, everyone has something more important to do than to stay for what will feel like an eternity. It’s long, daunting, and we might kill each other. There are a few things I might be able to tweak to make this bearable—your request to tour is there, but I don’t think we will be able to get it done. We have to prioritize our requests.”
He glares at me and says, “Prioritize mine.”
I laugh. “We’re going to vote, so get those guys on your side and maybe they’ll put your request next to the one where we can at least travel to Portland and stay there overnight if there’s an emergency.”
“My lawyer and agent will be calling you,” he says.
“Is that a threat, or are you trying to tell me that they want to help me?”
His gaze focuses on the papers, and then on me before he responds, “I guess they can give you a hand.”
“This isn’t my fault, kid,” I explain. “The dates were an oversight that won’t happen again. I’m trying to do my best to get us out of this, but—”
“Save the lecture,” he says. “I’m not a child anymore. Yes, I get it. This isn’t you. I have to be